


Good decisions make better stories.

by venom_for_free



Series: Bad decisions [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But this time Yuri gets drunk and she is sober, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mila's advice haven't gotten any better, Otabek is still a cop, Romance, She is still a terrible friend, Worst first date ever, he is also a mess, works for them though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23562247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free
Summary: Yuri was fucked. He knew. Mila knew. His Uber driver knew. Otabek didn't.Right now, Yuri was trying to draw on his second wing, leaning as far forward as he could to shamelessly abuse the rearview mirror for his last-minute make up. Just a tiny wing, to draw attention to them. He would have done it at home, but he spent the last 3 hours picking out an outfit with Mila. When they realized they forgot about daylight saving and his date was in twenty minutes, Yuri had grabbed his purse and ran for the door.Or: For some reason, Yuri managed to trick Otabek into having a date with him, even though he was arguably the worst flirting mess ever.Now, he is late to his date and his winged eyeliner is the only thing going right all evening.Accompany Yuri in his struggle to woo the hot police officer without losing the last bit of his dignity.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: Bad decisions [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1695892
Comments: 13
Kudos: 54





	Good decisions make better stories.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KatsuDauntless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatsuDauntless/gifts), [MysticEmerald (feelskilledthefangirl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelskilledthefangirl/gifts).



> The second part of "Bad decisions make good stories."  
> This only exists because kind people asked for more. So here, have a terrible date.  
> Thank you for your interest in the story! 
> 
> Also Thank you as always to one of my favorite humans who relentlessly bullies me into becoming a better writer, my glorious and amazing editor Taedae.

Yuri was fucked. He knew. Mila knew. His Uber driver knew. Otabek didn't. 

Right now, Yuri was trying to draw on his second wing, leaning as far forward as he could to shamelessly abuse the rearview mirror for his last-minute make up. Just a tiny wing, to draw attention to them. He would have done it at home, but he spent the last 3 hours picking out an outfit with Mila. When they realized they forgot about daylight saving and his date was in twenty minutes, Yuri had grabbed his purse and ran for the door. 

Mila caught up to him within a minute. "I can't … drive you … I'm sorry … but … I promised … to drive … Sara later," she panted, standing next to her car. 

"WHAT?" 

"I can't … drive you—" 

"NO, YOU FUCKING—UUURGH!" Yuri dug out his phone and ordered an Uber. Ten minutes until it arrives, twenty minutes into the city. Yuri was still barely dressed, not wearing makeup, and his hair was a mess. He thought he had time. 

At least he had the brains to text Otabek. Not that it mattered, the fucking guy's phone was offline. He knew. Yuri even tried to call. He could have murdered him if he didn't want to get into Otabek’s pants so badly. Maybe his heart, too. He was still unsure about that. But he liked the cop who not only spared his life but offered him a date after what must have been the worst flirting in the world. 

Today would be better. He could feel it when the Uber arrived and the inside was surprisingly clean. With a bit of effort, he managed to draw two perfect wings, even in a moving car, and wondered if this was all his luck for the day. 

Looking at the clock, it became apparent that this was a high possibility. It was late. He was late. Fifteen minutes right now. Yuri growled at every car on the street. Why did they need to commute right the fuck now when _he had a godforsaken date!_

When the driver finally released him from his metal cage, Yuri grossly overpaid because he had no time to wait for change. Like humanity, when it came to the climate crisis or saving endangered species. Yeah. This dumb fucking dinner with his hero cop was on the same level as the extinction of the Amur leopard. And he didn’t take cats lightly, thank you very much. 

He bolted from the street and to the entrance, where he stumbled into a Greek statue, turned to flesh, and broken free from its art exhibit. Though Yuri was sure there was one anatomical difference, if the tight black jeans were to be trusted. Otabek was in a hoodie and a leather jacket, and Yuri wondered if it was rude to drool all over your date. Especially when you were late. 

"Hi!" 

Otabek looked up and _holy shit,_ everything from that five o'clock shadow to his dark eyes made Yuri's stomach do wild things. "Yuri?" 

"What, do you not recognize me in daylight?" He stepped up to the short, yet intimidating and commanding looking man. Then he was in Otabek's space, and abruptly Yuri realized he had no idea what to do. 

Hug him? Kiss him? Shake hands? 

The last time they met, Yuri offered to suck his dick, but only as a technique of terrible flirting. And Otabek didn't even react to his kissy emojis … 

Yuri went in for a hug, just as Otabek stretched out his hand. Crap. Yuri corrected himself, but so did Otabek, and they collided again, becoming endlessly more awkward because it happened _twice_ right next to the damn fucking street where everyone was watching. 

In the end, they nodded at each other and headed inside. The restaurant was small and chic, all wood and glass and green plants everywhere. It had no character at all. Next time Yuri would choose. 

_Next time._ As if he knew for sure there would be one. He'd be lucky to survive this date without serious dents in his ego. 

The waitress arrived and smiled at Otabek. Only at Otabek. Yuri wanted to kick her dumb fucking leg. "HI," he pushed, forcing her to acknowledge him. She turned her head, shot back a quick "Hi," and turned around to Otabek again, smiling like Bambi would have if no one had killed his parents. Maybe Yuri would have to kill _her_. "I would like—" 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I'm still taking your friend’s order." 

_DATE_. MY DATE. MY HOT, AMORAL COP DATE YOU COULD NEVER HANDLE, DUMB BITCH. Yuri smiled back. "Of course." 

Otabek ordered politely in what seemed to be Italian. Yuri hadn't even realized they were in an Italian restaurant until now. What an asshole, picking a place like this to show off. Yuri wanted to tear his clothes off and lick long stripes across his body. 

When the pretentious bitch with the apron finally turned around, he ordered extra slow just to piss her off. It seemed to work. 

Fast forward five minutes, and Yuri and Otabek stared at each other. They already talked about the weather, the current political situation, and what it's like to be a gay policeman. Yuri didn’t have much to say to the last one, but he wished he could hear more. Tough luck, though. Otabek was as communicative as the staff in a hardware store during rush hour. Did hardware stores have rush hours? Yuri confused himself. 

It didn't help that the restaurant was far too loud. He leaned closer from time to time, trying to hear Otabek better when he said something, asked something, translated what Yuri didn't understand in the menu. But when Otabek told Yuri that he thought it's cruel to kill lobsters only in the middle of the cooking process and Yuri nodded and replied, _'I think that's awesome!'_ … it ruined even their most desperate attempts at communication. 

After half an hour of silence, awkward glances, and failed communication, Yuri wanted to die. He wished he could flirt, but Otabek was too fucking hot! Every time he opened his mouth to try and say anything remotely endearing or sexy, he froze up. At this point, Otabek probably thought he had some kind of mental defect. 

Yuri appreciated that he still smiled at him. What Yuri didn't appreciate was when the chef came out to say hello to his guests. Otabek had dragged him to a restaurant _that_ fancy. Frankly, Yuri was afraid of the bill. But that was not the problem. The problem was the chef himself. 

Yuri slid lower in his seat when the man passed the neighbor's table. Fuck. 

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._

It was just his luck to meet a guy he once bailed on after—"Yuri Plisetsky!" 

Oh, fucking shit. "Hi, Dimitri." 

Otabek looked between them, confused and probably wondering where they knew each other from. Well, he didn't need to know that— 

"Dima, please! We are old friends, aren't we? Who's your companion tonight?" 

He shrunk lower into his seat. How could he introduce a person he barely knew? _Hi, this is my date, Otabek Altin. He's a cop who gave me his number when I clumsily flirted my way out of a ticket. He probably regrets it now, but it's too late. I trapped him into this date with my undeniable charm and a blowjob innuendo about breathalyzers. That's a joke. I have no idea why he's still here. Or met me in the first place. He's probably into really pathetic people._

Oh god, please shoot him now. 

Yuri was saved when Otabek introduced himself. Classic first name-last name combo, no explanation, barely a smile. That smooth motherfucker. Yuri wanted to kiss him. 

But life was cruel, and he was a sinner for evading a ticket, so it came after him in other ways. 

"Are you guys dating?" 

Yuri looked across the table. They had texted a few lines, but other than that … 

"We met on the job." 

God damn it. He would give Otabek a fucking medal later on. But Dimitri still wasn't done. 

"Oh, so you're a bartender, too? That's how we met, too. You know, I'm his ex, actually, but it never worked, because—" 

"I think the guests at the next table would like to meet their chef just as well. Wouldn't it be impolite to monopolize all your time?" Yuri did his fucking best to get him to leave. He even used one of those fancy words Mila liked to point out in articles. 

"Oh, Yuri? Since when do you know how to—" 

Yuri was about to jump right into his sentence again when his knight in shining leather decided to side with him. 

"The food is great, thank you. It was very nice to meet you." Otabek nodded, dismissing the man before he returned his gaze to Yuri. 

Was it hot in here? Otabek wasn't only sexy, a man of the law, punctual and multilingual … he also got a hint. And told others to take one as well. Yuri's knees were weak. How much could his little black heart bear?! 

When Dimitri was finally gone, Yuri focused on Otabek again. "Thanks, man. I'm sorry. I know talking about an ex is bad luck on a first date, but I guess having one show up …" He sighed and tried to get his composure back. "He's just salty because I left his dumb fucking ass. But he was mean to my cat! And you understand that, right? You like cats, too!" 

Otabek paled a little, and Yuri realized his mistakes at the same time Otabek verbalized it. "I … never told you I like cats …" 

He had accidentally formulated it as a statement rather than a question. Fucking Mila, who went through all of Otabek's social media and gave him a detailed report! All she was supposed to do was check if he might be a murderer on the side. 

But no. Now Yuri looked like the creepy killer stalking his victims. He wanted to die. How on Earth had he managed to get into this clusterfuck of a date? Why was nothing going right? 

"Oh. Yeah. I just … assumed? Because everyone likes cats? Right?" 

Otabek smirked at him, and Yuri struggled to breathe because _oh my god,_ that little grin was devastating. "You stalked me, didn't you?" 

"No?" But oh well. He was blushing so hard, he should have just told Otabek the whole story anyway. "Maybe a little. Just … to be sure you won't murder me." 

Otabek almost choked on the drink he was sipping on. " _I'm_ not the criminal between us two." He said it with an air of amusement, but Yuri pouted nonetheless. 

"Not guilty until proven guilty." 

And there was that smile again, this time a little more gentle. "You admitted to not having your license with you." 

"You still let me go." 

"I barely slept that night since I had to accept I'm a corrupt cop now, and all just because you made me laugh." 

Wait. He never laughed. Had he? Was this Otabek's version of laughing? Maybe Yuri was wrong, and he was actually having a good time … 

"You know what's funny, too? My cat! Potya! She's … a handful. But also very cute! Do you want to see pictures?!" That was a good idea, right? Animal pictures were a good idea. "Here, she's a baby. Here … she's stuck in a sock. This one … look, she's throwing over a glass! She's so clumsy. Here she dug up a potted plant. And oh my God! Here I dressed her up as an old grandma!" He shoved his phone at Otabek, who dutifully scrolled through the entirety of the 200 picture gallery. "Isn't she lovely?" 

"She is." He did that smile thing again that maybe was a grin. Or constipation. Yuri was still not sure. "Okay, uhm …" Oh no. He was going to leave. Oh god. He hated the cat pictures. Oh no. He hated cats! He hated Yuri! That was a disaster. Maybe he could— "... go to the restroom for a minute …" 

Oh, okay. Okay. He needed to pee. That was fine. Everyone needed to pee. Yuri sighed, smiled, and nodded encouragingly, but Otabek looked at him strangely. Maybe he should have listened to what he was actually saying … oh no. What if Otabek wanted to leave when he came back? What if he actually did hate Yuri? 

Otabek stood and walked away. Once he was gone, Yuri dropped his head unceremoniously onto the table. He was ruining his date before dessert. 

Mila. Mila would help him. Mila knew what to do. 

**To: Baba**

**"I need ur hlp. I'm ruining my d8 & my life w t perfect Otabek Altin! Did u kno he speaks Italian?!" **

**From: Baba**

**"Yeah. I know how to read a Facebook page. How's your date? Why are you texting? That bad?"**

**To: Baba**

**"Its not bad! Hes not bad! I am!!! Shit, m ruining evrythng! Dimity’s here. I was l8. I jst told him I kno he likes cats cuz I fkn stalked him & he realized!!! Mila!!" **

**From: Baba**

**"It's fine, there's still hope. Just don't talk about Potya, you always sound crazy. And whatever you do, don't fucking show him the dress-up pictures, Plisetsky. They are embarrassing as FUCK."**

**To: Baba**

**"Too l8."**

**From: Baba**

**"You're a disgrace to Russia. Fix that. He's fucking hot. And if you blow it, at least give him my number."**

**To: Baba**

**"Ur the worst frnd I could evr hav."**

**From: Baba**

**"Make another one and tell them."**

**To: Baba**

**"FCK. U."**

Yuri huffed and pushed his phone into his pocket, only to realize Otabek was back at the table. How long had he been there already?! "Uhm … hi." 

"Hi. Interesting conversation? You looked pissed …" 

Yuri winced. Then he tried to get back on track. "Is it weird to show someone your cat pictures?" 

"I'm not sure there's a right answer." 

"Of course there is! It's _'no'_!" 

"Uhm … okay." 

Yuri blushed. Oh god, why was he such a useless fucking idiot?! Why was he asking if he didn't want an answer? 

He was saved by the waitress. This time, Yuri graciously ignored that she was trying to flirt with Otabek and ordered two vodka cranberry. When the drinks arrived, he pushed one to Otabek. 

"Oh. I … don't drink. I'm here by car." 

"Oh …" 

He stared at the two glasses. It was probably a terrible idea, but what could go wrong? When Yuri tossed them back, one right after the other, he remembered it had been a while since he last drank vodka. Cocktails in the club made him reckless. 

Yuri could feel the alcohol taking effect. When he was feeling lighter for a moment, he even thought it was smart to order a third glass. Still, by the time Yuri had that swishing around in his belly, he wasn't so fucking sure anymore. 

At least the food was good. 

Yuri did his best not to talk too much because he didn't want to give away _what_ a lightweight he was. And because he wanted to learn new things about Otabek, of course. 

And what did it matter? It was the worst date in history, anyway. Maybe he should call his Uber straight away. Save himself from the awkward goodbye that was obviously coming up. But Yuri was determined to pay the bill. Since Otabek spared him from an official fine, Yuri would instead invest the money in the man himself. 

But his plan was ruined when he returned from the toilet, and the table was cleared. Otabek was just handing back the bill with his card, and Yuri wanted to die, right there, on the spot. His last piece of comfort was the lukewarm takeout container Otabek gifted him. Bless the man. 

"Thank you," Yuri mumbled. "I'll … call the Uber now?" He looked up like a puppy expecting to be kicked. 

But for some reason, Otabek smiled almost fondly. "I can drive you home. Make sure you're safe and all." 

"Why would you? This was a mess? I am a mess!" 

Otabek smiled and shook his head. "No … I mean … yeah. That whole date was … something else. But … at least I know now that you didn't play me with that shy clumsiness the other day. And … honestly, it wasn't so bad. After all … I would still like to meet you again." 

Yuri's cheeks tinted dark red, and he stammered, "Yeah?". 

"Yeah. You might be awkward, Yuri Plisetsky, but you’ve got the eyes of a soldier." 

And just like that, Yuri melted into a puddle of goo.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and I would love to hear from you!  
> I'm also on  
> tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free  
> instagram: https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/  
> or twitter: https://twitter.com/venom_for_free


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